Aches and Pains
by Sheryl Nantus
Summary: Racer X comes to terms with some issues.


Aches and Pains

Rating: K, 2008 Movieverse

Synopsis: Racer X comes to terms with some issues.

Disclaimer: SO not mine! Like you had to ask?

The hot water jets poked and punched tender skin; sending heat into bruised and aching muscles. Racer X gasped as he turned the heat up even higher, his skin turning lobster red under the unrelenting attack – where it wasn't already black and blue.

"Good race." Minx's voice came out of the steam.

He nodded. "Excellent race." Rolling his head back the tall man winced. "A bit of a brawl there towards the end."

"And the middle. And the beginning." The low chuckle reached his ears. "Quite the body count this time around."

"Well, they have to learn one way or the other not to take a win for granted." The dark-haired man flinched as he turned around, letting the jets pound on his bare back. "Royalton may not be around but there are plenty of other snakes trying to fix the races."

"True." The words fluttered along the wisps of whiteness. "But you didn't have to do it all yourself. Speed took three of them out when they decided to take him on." She giggled. "Almost caught you in the backwash, to be honest."

He groaned as he spun around again; fingers adjusting the rhythmic spray yet again. "Yeah, the kid's good. But there's always room on the track for the 'Harbinger of Boom'." Turning around one last time he brushed the last handful of soap from his body. "If you're going to stay here you might as well get my towel for me."

The shower door swung open. A groan broke free as he reached out to grab the offered towel, stepping onto the mat.

"Shall I set up a massage session?" She hummed, still out of sight.

"No, I'll be fine." The heated towel went around his waist as he shook his head, sending a spray into the air. "Racing's a job for young men. Soon I won't be able to do this anymore."

"Well, that'll be the C.I.B.'s loss." Minx replied. "Besides, you always said you wanted to have a nice retirement."

"When did I ever say that?" One hand swiped across the mirror, revealing his eyes. His fingers moved along the bottom half. "Besides, there's always the WRL lecture circuit. Or maybe becoming a teacher."

"What a good idea." The dark-skinned woman appeared behind him, placing her hands on his bare shoulders. "The Racer School of Professional Racing."

A shiver ran under her fingers; the skin twitching. "I couldn't call it that."

"Not yet." Her breath was light on his cooling skin. "But one day, maybe."

"Possibly." His fingers drew an "x" across the mirrored reflection's forehead. "But not right now."

"No." Minx admitted. "But maybe in the future…"

He stared at the cloudy glass; the exaggerated "M" drawn across his doppelganger's chest. "Maybe." A groan broke free as he took a step back away from the mirror. "Maybe I'll take you up on that massage."

"Still hurting?" She squeezed his shoulder gently.

His hand landed atop hers as he stared into the mirror, watching the eyes disappear; the insignias fade from sight. "Always does. Always will."

The C.I.B. agent tugged at him. "Come, now – you've done a lot of good. Saved a lot of lives, including your family."

"I guess so." The mirror was a foggy blank again. "It's just that some days it hurts more than others."

"Hmm." He could hear the smile in her words. "I guess I'll tell Speed to go home then."

"What?" The tall dark-haired man spun around to face her. "He's here?"

"Says he wants to talk to you about the race. That, and I think he's bucking to take on the Star in a private run at Thunderhead." She chuckled, seeing the agent's eyes light up. "Guess you're not feeling so old after all."

He laughed and shook his head. "Tell him I'll be out in a minute after I get dressed." The older Racer paused. "How long has he been out there?"

"Oh, just after you stepped into the shower." Minx waved a hand in the air. "I've been letting him see some of my new toys. I expect he's going to be drooling to get permission to put them on one of his cars. If not both."

"I doubt Pops'll let him." The steam began to disappear; the mirror clearing up. "I'll be out soon enough." He glanced at the pile of dark clothing sitting nearby. "Thanks for bringing a clean set of leathers in."

The mechanic nodded as she spun on her heel and headed for the door, a sly grin on her face.

"Hey."

She turned back just in time to catch the towel as it flew towards her. "Next time don't let me stay in there too long, okay?"

"Maybe." An exaggerated sigh punctuated her words. "You Racer men all think way too much." She threw him a kiss, opening the bathroom door. "Maybe when you come back you'll need another shower."

He grinned, his hands on his hips. "Always room for two in there." His thumb jerked towards the wall. "Tell the kid I'll be out and he better be ready to put that pedal down. I'm not cutting him any slack 'cause he won that race."

"Roger that." The woman slipped through the door. "Maybe you're not all that old."

"Maybe." The agent rubbed his chin then reached for the mask, settling it over his face. Turning around he glared at the reflection, lowering his voice. "Time to be a Racer."


End file.
